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Harrowdale
| religion = Chauntea, Mystra, Tymora, Oghma, Malar, Mielikki, Silvanus | imports = Glassware, lace, ore, paper, silks, spices, tools, weapons | exports = Ale, beef, cheese, fruit, furs, lumber, mutton, wool | alignment = | usethe = | useon = | inhabitants = yes | locations = yes | organizations = yes | settlements = yes | source = | page = }} Harrowdale is the oldest of the surviving Dalelands. It mainly consists of human inhabitants, further some elven and half-elven people. History After the misfortunes of the neighboring Scardale, Harrowdales started to strive and became one of the biggest ports into the Dales. Harrowdale is well-travelled farming country. Although there are rolling-hill sheep ranches and orchards at both the northerly and southern ends of the dale, its heart has always been a northwest-southeast gentle-sided river valley. The river "sank" below ground centuries ago for reasons unknown (probably something to do with Underdark mining), leaving behind a series of ponds and tiny wandering creeks that have been diverted into many drainage ditches and small, private pond-reservoirs. Drought is unknown, because water from the Elvenwoods still moves steadily down to the Dragonreach through Harrowdale, but irrigation has almost obliberated the local marshes. The valley has been tilled and harvested for centuries, and is crisscrossed by meandering cart-lanes, two of them (known collectively as "the Harrow Ride") running the length of the valley on either side of the former riverbed (linked together by cross-lanes in many places). At the Reach end of these lanes is Harrowdale-town, and at the upstream, wooded end of them, several hundred feet higher, is Velartree (at the mouth of the Halfaxe Trail). Two crossroads settlements, so small that they're missing from most maps, stand on the Ride between Velartree and Harrowdale-town. Each offers little more than a market-paddock, an inn-and-tavern, a mill or smithy, a few private residences, rooming-houses for seasonal farm labourers, and a discreet house of pleasure. Dead Oak is the upstream hamlet, and Lanfroe the downstream one. Velartree itself is similar in size and amenities. The Council of Seven Burghers has hired and trained four constables to keep order (and report back events, including who visits or passes through and what goods they're carrying) in the two road-hamlets, recruited a dozen more Grey Riders who work out of a base in Velartree, and recently established a ten-man Watch in Velarsburg (the second-largest settlement in Harrowdale, and the mercantile center of its northern hills). They've also extended to the Grey Riders the right to make arrests, keep persons in captivity and transport them bound to Harrowdale-town for Council justice, and fight to protect Harrans ("Harrans" are citizens of Harrowdale; the term "Harrovans" is also sometimes used, "Velarr" means the same thing in some older written sources, and Sembians and Cormyreans sometimes say "Harrowdalesmen," though a Harran would raise a disgusted eyebrow upon hearing that naming). All Harrans have always had the right to burn or bury corpses to prevent the spread of disease (though this has undoubtedly led to coverups of many murders, down the years). Like all busy 'crossroads' trading places, Harrowdale is tolerant of outlanders, folk of many races, and new goods and ideas. The innate conservatism of its farmers was overwhelmed generations ago, probably at about the time farmer after farmer was approached to be a paid way-storage place and goods and information drop by merchants working the routes between Sembia and the Moonsea, in return for pay that made the difference for the farm family surviving the hard, deep-wet-snow winters, or not. It was this practise that led to the Harran custom of stone-lined, mud-cement-sealed storage cellars (much larger than the 'root cellar' food storage needs of even the largest farm family) dug into hillsides near farmhouses. The land of Harrowdale isn't particularly rocky, and centuries of building needs have made stones too scarce for use in farm fences. Stump fences and zigzag-rail fences were both common in bygone years, but the passing seasons have transformed most of these into thicktangle hedges, particularly since Harrans discovered many berry-bushes and vines grow well in Harrowdale's soil and climate. Wildlife and generations of Harran children have both found these hedges to offer ample cover and 'secret hideouts,' and it's not uncommon for a farmer needing to hide something in a hurry to look to his hedges for the place to do so. Roof-thatches (most Harrowdale cottages are mud-cement-sealed, whitewashed stone buildings with thatched roofs covered with a thin layer of earth and growing gardens) offer another traditional place of concealment, but it's a rare farm cottage that's large enough to have 'enclosed' inward roof-slopes that could conceal a person or corpse "up above" during daylight hours. To keep yields of berries and herb-leaves high, trees in Harrowdale hedges are kept pruned, but many Harrans maintain small, orderly woodlots. These began as a means of appeasing elves clearly made furious by the Halfaxe Trail incursions, and are now seen as useful mushroom-growing patches, shade spots for livestock, and ready sources of private lumber. Harrowdale offers the visitor pleasant vistas of cultivated fields, small clusters of farm buildings, and greenery, and can be truly beautiful at sunset and near highsun on bright, cloudless days. For years outlanders have followed the lead of other Dalesfolk in thinking of Harrans as dull-witted, placid farmers, contentedly ignorant of events, realms, customs, and folk in the wider Realms -- in short, "country bumpkins." Aside from the contented "we'll get through this, as we've got through all other troubles before it" Harran outlook (which is very true), this has always been a slanderous misrepresentation. Proximity to the boiling intrigues of Scardale and exposure to both the views and wisdom of the neighbouring elves and the stream of new ideas and dress and ways from travelling merchants, have always made Harrans far more than simple farmers. Their dull-witted reputation comes from a wise reticence about talking too loosely in front of strangers. The Velarwood remains a dangerous place (see the FRCS), and rather than try to tame it as folk elsewhere might have done, Harrans have left it largely alone (patrolling around it with the Grey Riders to prevent any spread of woodland monsters). Local woodcutters have concentrated instead on coppicing and organized planting and nurturing practises, sited between Velarsburg and the Elvenwoods, with the cooperation of local elves. This large region of young new woods is sometimes called "the Green" (as in: "up Green way," or "he's deep in the Green right now"). Felling trees from either the "fore-edge" of the wild forest of Cormanthor, or of the Velarwood, is now forbidden. Recent events in Scardale have made disease strongly feared in Harrowdale, and travellers are now encouraged (and given facilities at paddocks and at inns) to bathe often and vigorously. A typical paddock or inn has a horsepond that all arriving beasts must be led through (and inn stablemasters also wash the legs and hooves of all beasts stabled overnight, regardless of claims that they've been "ponded"), and a sand-bed or mud-bed for people to 'dry scrub' in, right beside a pond they can then wash in. (How much this merely transfers taints and conditions from one traveller to the next is a matter little understood or debated, but local temples do betimes cast purifying spells on such waters, as well as maintaining clean baths for clergy and for guests of their own.) The Kathtan (captain) of the Watch in Harrowdale-town, the elf fighter-mage Naumys Ellarian Dawnhorn, seems to be mellowing somewhat (or as Elminster put it, "learning to live with adventurers"), but still has little use for outlanders who swagger, throw their brawn around whilst trusting in their blades and spells to keep them from being sharply curbed, and fail to confine pranks and horseplay to inside the walls of the Fall of Stars. It's whispered that some of this gentler attitude has come from the kathtan's several recent romances with handsome visiting adventurers, but no gossips seem to agree on the names and likenesses of Dawnhorn's lovers. Harrowdale doesn't yet have its much-debated sea-tower to discourage pirates, but does now boast two new low, fast Watch "cutters" (boats with many "seagouts" mounted on their decks; seagouts are large double-crossbows, too small to properly be termed ballistae, that can be fired with the pull of a single cord from behind an armored shield) that can be swiftly sent forth if need be. Many Harran farmers regard these as "wasteful toys," as they haven't yet seen much use, but they're regarded up and down the dale as far more favourable evils than building "an empire-fools' tower" would have been. In darker recent news, bandits have become an everpresent plague on the caravan-road between Harrowdale and Scardale, and rumors are arising that certain Sembian interests are sponsoring these road-bandits, under orders to let only "friendly" wagons through (those who've paid some sort of safe-passage fee in Scardale or Sembia). Lurking among these brigands, recent reports suggest, is something more sinister: four or more ragewinds (see the 3e MONSTER MANUAL II). Where these rare undead are coming from, or --or, if you prefer other tales, who summoned them -- are matters of much whispered speculation. Moreover, Harrowdale-town is full of the usual gloomy rumors of Scardale's intrigues slyly coming north, brought by undercover agents intent on subverting Harrans. Elminster cautions that such everpresent gossip thrives enthusiastically, and has done every since Lashan's invasion. Harrowdale was once called Velarsdale after its founder, was briefly dubbed "Harrowdale," reverted to Velarsdale, and later (when ruled by the ruthless lord Halvan the Dark, who began the Halfaxe Trail) became Halvan's Dale. After Halvan's fall, "Halvan's Dale" swiftly became "Harrowdale" again, a name derived from the multiple-tined plows invented locally, and has remained Harrowdale ever since. Invaded many times over its history, Harrowdale has kept its borders and many of its 'oldblood' farmfolk families (such as Brondas, Dyzur, Mumfyrd, and Routhgaer) from its founding, and proudly claims to be the oldest of the Dales. Just how old that makes it is a matter for sages to argue over, but the most interesting time in its history, for treasure-seekers at least, befell in the sixty or so years preceding Halvan (whom most sages agree flourished in the 1180s DR), when adventurer after hiresword after adventurer came north from Sembia, seized Velarsdale from whomever was lord of it at the time, and proclaimed themselves 'Lord.' These Lords of Harrowdale held themselves to be the equals of any king, and styled their offspring "princes" and "princesses" (of them all, the handsome and skilled hunter Lord Prince Arlan is almost the only one still remembered, thanks to the ballad "Arlan Beheld An Elf-Lass Fair"). Very few of these children ever got to warm a throne, because their fathers usually ruled for only a handful of seasons. In swift succession, the dale was held by the Lords Thaundass Rahr, Orimmon (who first dubbed the dale "Harrowdale"), Feltaern Urnsarr, Imbar Thaelwood, Elzar Darth, and Harlstakh "Har-Stag" Kethtor. Kethtor was butchered on his throne by a strong, well-respected warcaptain out of Sembia, Elmaer Oraun-and the Lord Oraun then reigned for almost twenty seasons, becoming popular and widely respected, before fell magic and poison marked the coming of Halvan. During that time, Oraun built cordial relations with his neighbours (though there were more than a few rumors of both rivals and unwelcome envoys disappearing while visiting him), made peace with the elves, and in the last few years of his reign, restored the name "Velarsdale" to his tiny realm. It's rumored that Halvan had 'dark aid' in his bid to take the throne, and some say that when Oraun was defeated at the battle of Marak's Stile, elven magic snatched him away from certain death -- and the jaws of Halvan's war-dogs savaged only his bodyguards. It is certain that both Oraun's son Erammon, and his swordmaster, Thaeron, vanished that same day, leaving Oraun's armsmen leaderless and the gates of Harrowdale-town undefended against Halvan's riders. Certain bold traders swear they saw Oraun and Thaeron in Elventree, some fifty summers later, escorting a "great elf lady" around the shops -- and neither of them looked a day older than they had at the coming of Halvan! Many Harrans believe this tale because of something that befell in the heart of the hard winter of 1351 DR, when a dying Harper staggered through the snows to a farm in northern Harrowdale, delivered an unknown message to a farmhold there, and perished. On that night, fey blue mage-fire was seen raging above the hilltop farm -- and in the morning, the three brothers who'd come out of Sembia a dozen years earlier to claim that steading, upon the death of their father, walked and talked the same as they always had, but looked quite different. The three-hundred-year-old "Wandering Wizard" Arauntan of Selgaunt, who saw them on his travels, swore to his dying day that the youngest brother, Torstan Morgath, looked very like the happy-go-lucky Lord Erammon, son of the Lord Oraun; the oldest Morgath brother, Durthar, was the swordmaster Thaeron, or his very brother-image -- and the 'tween brother, Ulbaern Morgath, was the very likeness of the Lord Oraun himself. Erammon or Torstan vanished from the farm a season later, and has not been seen in Harrowdale since. Durthar Morgath rallied the men of northern Harrowdale to fight Lashan during the invasion of 1356 DR, revealing himself as "Thaeron, Rightful Swordmaster of Harrowdale," and perished in battle... and two summers later, Ulbaern or Oraun was found dead of heart-stop in the Morgath farmhouse, his fields untended. A ghostly image was hovering over his sprawled body, and the farmers who found him, level-headed men all, swore it had the likeness of a very tall, very thin elf lady, armored and cloaked, with a drawn sword in her hand. She was gazing down at the dead man in sadness when they first beheld her, but turned to regard the gaping farmers, saluted them solemnly with upraised blade, and said: "So passes one who was great. Find what he left behind here, and make this land he loved greater still." Then she vanished, passing the dumbstruck farmers like a chill wind. They spread word of what they'd seen almost as swiftly, but though greedy men have since thrown down every stone and board of the Morgath steading, and dug up its yard and pasture and very middens, no trace of treasure has ever been found, and the meaning of the phantom's words -- or indeed, who she was -- remains a mystery. Category:Locations in the Dalelands Category:Locations in North Faerûn